


You're Not Wrong

by Scavenger



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bisexuality, First Kiss, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 22:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scavenger/pseuds/Scavenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turns out “Drunk Stiles” surprises Derek just as much as “Sober Stiles”. Good to know. (<em>Stop referring to yourself in the third person, Stiles</em>).</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Not Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: Mentions of past death, loss, physical abuse and betrayal (all very brief). I have no beta reader, I haven’t seen season three and I’ve only written one slash fic and Teen Wolf fic before. This was also written very quickly.

Derek finds Stiles alone on the roof at four in the morning the day after his eighteenth birthday. He’s drunk and must have climbed out his window and Derek wants to lecture him on how dangerous and stupid that was but it’s pointless so he sits next to Stiles, whose bottle is empty, to make sure he doesn’t fall and break his neck trying to get back inside.

“Yrr late.”

Derek almost laughs at how he sounds almost in awe when he’s sure it was intended as an accusation. “Happy birthday. But you know it’s 21 before you’re legal drinking-wise.”

“Twas yestrdy. Late. Drrk.” Derek’s really struggling not to laugh then because Stiles is trying to sit up but keeps giving up halfway and flopping back down, like half-assed sit-ups. “Sex,” Stiles says and Derek blinks because what?

“What?”

“Leegl fr sex,” Stiles explains and maybe he should be a little concerned that he can understand both Stiles’ slurring and his train of thought. “But no one,” he says, waving an arm to smack it back down on the tiles, “no one wnts meh.”

Derek rolls his eyes because Stiles is perceptive and smart and _so fucking oblivious_. “You’d be surprised.”

“Pff.” Stiles heaves a deep breath. “Yah.”

He assumes that Stiles means that yes, he would be surprised so Derek says, “Smart is sexy.”

Stiles grins, eyes closed. “Srsly.” There’s a pause before he opens his eyes, frowning and looking so adorable that Derek can’t contain a fond expression that no one will see. “Brave is sexy too,” he says, speaking slowly so that he doesn’t slur.

“Yeah, you are brave.”

“Not me, I mean-” He sighs. “Loyl. Funny.”

“Mhm, you’re those too.”

“No!” And Derek frowns, not sure what’s happening anymore. “Mussls.”

He tries to continue the whole supportive thing he’s doing anyway. “You should stop hiding yours under that many layers then.”

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, you ijjit,” Stiles says, throwing an arm across his eyes and going silent for a while.

Derek thinks back and genuinely can’t grasp where they stopped understanding each other so he just looks at Stiles. He can just see how red his face is, the muscles of his arm under his shirt, the flatness of his stomach. _He’s eighteen now_ , a part of his mind says, and he’s quick to tell it to go fuck itself because Stiles is _straight_ , okay? And Derek needs to stop thinking like that.

Stiles lifts his arm off his eyes over an hour later. He turns to peer at Derek, eyebrows going up. “You’re still here.”

“You’ve stopped slurring.”

“So it seems.”

“You still smell like a brewery.”

Stiles grins, turning back to the slowly brightening sky. “I had fun.”

“Good,” Derek says. And he means it.

Another while passes before Stiles asks, “Did I say or do anything stupid?”

“I’ve only been around for a couple of hours so I can’t say for sure but nothing that I’ve seen. Although, Stiles, climbing out of your window while drunk was pretty stupid.”

Stiles waves a dismissive hand. “You worry too much.”

“I worry the correct amount.”

Stiles makes a sound that’s probably supposed to sound like the game show noise when someone gets an answer wrong but actually sounds like an angry old lady. “Wrong. You’re wrong. You worry waaaaaay too much about the little things. We have so much dangerous shit in our lives, you should stop sweating everything else.”

Derek sighs. “I’m not going to argue with you when you’re drunk. You’re stubborn enough when you’re sober.”

“You don’t know! I could be super pliable right now.”

Derek shuts his eyes and tells that same part of his mind to _shut the fuck up_. “You? Please. You’re the immovable object.”

Stiles waves his both arms wildly in his disbelief and indignation. “No! You’re the immovable object! I’m the unstoppable force.”

Derek snorts because yeah, that sounds accurate. “So what happens when they collide?”

There’s a long pause, Stiles’ expression gone sad and angry and Derek starts to worry. Then Stiles says, “They do stupid shit like leave each other to die.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry that I left you to die that one time. I was a dick and I should have apologised ages ago but I was too scared of what you’d say. Drunk Stiles is pretty brave, though, mostly because he doesn’t think past five seconds into the future.”

“Stiles-”

“I’m also sorry about your sister. Not that she died, I mean, I am but I know how people’s condolences mean shit when you lose someone. I mean. The night we met, we were… I didn’t care whose body it was. I was just. Curious. I’m sorry for dehumanising her like that.”

Derek is quiet for a long time then, thinking back at the pain he was in and how, yeah, he didn’t appreciate that. Stiles and Scott dug up Laura’s body after the traumatic experience of burying her. But they had thought that they were doing the right thing that time, at least. Derek has long forgiven Stiles for the immaturity he displayed at sixteen. And, after all the times he’s saved Derek’s life, the one time he didn’t try seems like very little.

Finally, what he says is, “I’m surprised you can use a big word like ‘dehumanising’ while you’re drunk.” Stiles frowns and Derek kicks himself because Stiles is trying to be serious for once. So he adds, “Sorry for all the. Shoving you into walls. And that time with your steering wheel.”

Stiles smiles. “Yeah, that wasn’t fun. Don’t do it again. But it’s okay, I forgive you.”

Derek huffs a laugh. “I’ll apologise again when you’re sober, see if you’ll forgive me then too.”

“I will. I do? Whatever. Drunk Stiles and Sober Stiles both like you. But Drunk Stiles will admit it. It’s okay, though. Men don’t find me attractive. Actually, people don’t find me attractive.”

Derek eyes widen a little as he stares at Stiles, heart pounding. “I think I’ve lost the thread of this conversation.”

And Derek must look as shocked as he feels because Stiles peers back for a few too many seconds, eyes so narrowed that they’re almost closed, before he says, “Based on the look on your face, I don’t think you did.” Stiles turns back to the sky. “My dad doesn’t know yet. That I don’t always like girlfolk.” There’s a pause. “It’s not a Lydia thing.”

“What?”

“It’s not. Like. Puppy love or whatever. Idolisation. I didn’t know her and I thought she was perfect and stuff. I know you and you’re flawed and annoying and I like you.”

Derek realises something, then. “Because I’m brave and loyal and funny and have muscles.”

Stiles smirks. “And you’re ever so modest too.”

“That’s not- you’re the one who-”

“It’s cool, man. I’m not drunk enough to forget this but we can pretend that I am.” He turns his head to look at Derek and the rising sun hitting his eyes makes them honey gold and that annoying part of Derek goes _not so straight, then_. And the rest of Derek goes _good_.

Derek smiles at Stiles, small and genuine, and says, “Or we could not pretend. And I’ll kiss you when you’re sober.”

Stiles eyes go wide and he manages to sit up on the first try, twisting to look at Derek. His shocked expression gives way to a grin so he’s beaming at Derek when he says, “Help me inside? I need some water and to sleep this shit off ASAP.”

Derek matches his grin and stands, holding out his hand. “So you were wrong about no one wanting you.”

“Did I say that? I would like to pretend I didn’t say that. And that I always knew that you wanted me. Because you’ve been pining for ages. That’s going to be my story.” Stiles takes the proffered hand.

Derek pulls him to stand. “You’re not wrong.” Stiles’ eyebrows go up before his expression changes and he looks like Derek has given him the greatest of gifts. Derek barely manages to stop himself from kissing Stiles right then.

They go inside and he puts Stiles to bed after making him drink two glasses of water (he wants that kiss too, okay?) and leaving him with a third. He goes home, then, and waits.

\---

Derek finds Stiles alone on his porch at one in the afternoon the day after his eighteenth birthday. He’s sober and must have come straight over after he woke up and Derek wants to kiss him like he promised. So he does.


End file.
